Where There Is Life
by foreverme98
Summary: Hermione saves Lucius from Azkaban and forbidden feelings develop.
1. Chapter 1

The room was sparse except for the bed that was placed up against the far wall. Mold and death perfumed the dank air, making it almost impossible to breathe without feeling the need to retch. All in all, it felt as if she had entered Hell itself; but instead of being suffocated by unbearable heat, she was slowly being turned into a popsicle. Heavy puffs of air appeared before her face with every breath that she took, and, with each second that passed, her body began to feel a little more numb.

How the man in front of her was still alive, she didn't know. Though, upon closer inspection, she had to wonder if he was, indeed, still among the land of the living, considering the stillness in which he lay. From her place by the door, she couldn't see his chest rising, and he certainly hadn't moved when the guard had opened the cell door. He'd only been imprisoned a year, but it looked like the past few months had taken quite a toll.

Daring to move closer, she looked him over and couldn't help but notice how thin he'd become, which shouldn't have been a surprise but, somehow, it was. He had his back to her and the only thing covering him was a thin looking shirt and a pair of threadbare pants. No socks covered his dirty feet; it didn't even look like he'd been given a blanket to protect him from the bitter cold.

Taking a fortifying breath, she walked forward until her knees hit the side of the hard mattress. When the prisoner was within her reach, she slowly stretched out her hand to rest against his bony shoulder, and immediately gasped when she felt how cold his body truly was. In a blink of an eye, her hand flashed to press against his neck, searching for any sign of life, and she sighed in relief when she detected a faint pulse, indicating that Azkaban hadn't completely killed him. Yet.

"We're going to get you out of here," she whispered.

Getting him into a sitting position was difficult in his unconscious state, but she managed to lift him up enough to get a good grip on him. When she had him in her arms, she reached for her Portkey and said the word that would take them to her flat. The tugging sensation that pulled at her stomach was comforting in its familiarity, giving her something to hold on to in the midst of her uneasiness.

When she'd taken on the challenge of getting Lucius Malfoy released from his life sentence, she'd done so out of pity. After watching Draco try to build a life after everything that had happened, she'd been moved by compassion to try and put what was left of the Malfoy family back together again. It wasn't a decision that her friends approved of, but it was a decision that she felt good about, nevertheless.

Well, she _had_ felt good about it until all of her hard work had paid off. That was when things had started to feel real, and that had changed everything. Going into it, she had been fully aware that any chance of actually succeeding was slim but that hadn't stopped her from trying. Turned out she was much more persuasive than she had originally given herself credit for. Being a war heroine hadn't hurt either.

Reaching their destination brought her back to the present; a very scary, very strange present. The only thing her frozen mind could think to do was get him into the spare bedroom and clean him up a bit for when he did wake up. Since she couldn't drag him from point A to point B, she got her wand out from inside of her jacket and performed a simple levitating spell. When she had him on the bed, she magicked his hair and body clean, searched him for any hidden injuries, and transformed a pair of her pajama's into a size he could fit into. By the time he was looking presentable again, Hermione was feeling drained so she left the room to go and make herself a cup of tea.

She was pouring a bit of milk into the finished product when she felt Harry enter the flat through the fireplace. By the way he was walking, she could tell he was less than happy with her, and she was sure of it when he stomped into the kitchen with a furious scowl on his face. "I was informed by the Minister of Magic that you finally managed to free Lucius from Azkaban," he said, getting right to the point.

Not wanting to let the tea get cold, she took a sip. A rebellious part of her enjoyed the way his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. She loved her friend dearly, but he'd been less than supportive in her quest to save Lucius, and while she could understand his feelings, she wished he would take the time and try to understand hers. "That's right. They released him this morning, but there was a lot of paperwork. I haven't been home long."

"You're just going to pretend that everything is normal." It was more statement than question, said through clenched teeth.

"I'm only trying to keep a level head, Harry," she sighed. "This is all a bit...crazy, I know, but we've been over this a thousand times."

He ran his hand through his hair like he always did when he was frustrated. It used to always make her smile; tonight it just made her feel sad. "Yes, we have, and you know I can't support this."

Slamming her hand down on the table wasn't intentional but _damn it_ , couldn't he see that she needed him right now? "This isn't about us! This is about what's right, and both Draco and Lucius helped us defeat Voldemort. We can't just forget that."

Striding closer, he pointed a finger down the hall to where Malfoy was sleeping. "He's a criminal, Hermione. He may have changed sides at the last minute but that means _nothing_. It doesn't cancel out all of the other horrible things he's done."

"Of course it doesn't. I'm not trying to pretend like he's a hero, but he's not without hope either." She got to her feet. "Draco deserves to have his father back," she finished softly, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

She watched him shake his head. "He never had a father to begin with. You're wasting your time and I'm not going to stand by and watch you make the worst mistake of your life. I'm sorry, 'Mione." He turned around and left as quickly as he'd come, taking a piece of her heart with him.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had gone into this knowing it wouldn't be easy; she'd known there would be consequences because very few things in life were easy or without consequence. If her friends didn't want to stand by her, then so be it. She was used to being on her own.

A horrified scream reached her ears, pulling her from her dark thoughts. She bolted down the hall and threw the door open, not paying any attention to the way it banged against the wall. The blonde man was thrashing around in the bed, asleep. One scream followed the next until it became a steady beat in her head. Ears ringing, she went to him and tried her best to soothe him, but she could hardly even hear herself over his cries. Touching him didn't seem like a good idea, but she reached out for his arm anyway and, to her surprise, he calmed down.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said. Nothing happened.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

Mumbling something unintelligible, he weakly grasped her hand, eyes still closed. His hair was a tangled mess and since it didn't look like he was going to let her go anytime soon, she sat by his head and started running her fingers through the silky strands, in an attempt to fix what his thrashing had ruined. After a few minutes, she was caught unaware when she glanced down to find his eyes focused intently on her. "Where am I?" he croaked.

Sitting there, frozen, Hermione tried to get her brain to start functioning again, but she was stuck in limbo. He was awake. "You're at my flat," she replied numbly.

Confusion darkened his grey irises. "Hermione," he murmured under his breath. "Hermione Granger?"

She tightened her grip on his hand when she felt it trembling underneath her touch. His gaze was flitting from one corner to the next, as if he couldn't quite believe that this wasn't some sort of dream. "Yes, I went to school with your son, remember? You don't need to worry; you're safe now."

Panting, he tried to sit up, but he couldn't even manage to get his arms in a position to lift himself. Eyes flashing to hers, his features twisted into a picture of hate. "Stop this right now," he snarled. "I won't fall for your tricks any longer. Leave me to rot for all I care, but stop tormenting me!"

Having no idea what to make of his sudden change of attitude, she just sat there, staring down at him. When he realized he wasn't strong enough to actually leave the bed, he started trying to shift as far away from her as he could get. The desire to figure out what was wrong engulfed her, so she extended her hand out to him only to snatch it back when he yelled, "Stay away from me!"

"Mr. Malfoy, please," she tried to reason. "You need to calm do-"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Rolling onto his side, he curled up into a ball and covered his ears with his hands. "I'm still in Azkaban," he said. "I'm still in Azkaban."

He kept saying it over and over, which confused the hell out of her, until she remembered something she'd once heard Sirius say. Harry's uncle would sometimes talk about his time in prison after a few drinks had been poured into him, and the stories he would tell were...beyond horrifying. But he'd once told them that he, and the other inmates, would often have hallucinations of escaping Azkaban only to find out later that none of it had been real. It was one of the ways the Dementors liked to terrorize their prisoners.

"This isn't a hallucination. You were placed in my custody today." Realizing he wasn't listening, she clambered onto the bed and grabbed his wrists. He was weak enough for her to be able to manhandle him onto his back, but she had to straddle his legs to keep him from kicking her off. "Listen, this isn't a trick, Mr. Malfoy. You were released from Azkaban this morning."

"That's what you always say," he retorted with malice.

Not sure what to make of that, she decided to ignore it for the time being. "This is real," she stressed. "I'm real. You're a free man."

He shook his head. "No."

Her patience was reaching the end of its rope. She had no clue what to say to get him to believe her and she was getting tired of trying. "What do I need to say to make you believe this is real?"

For the first time since he woke up, a glint of the old Malfoy resurfaced in his gaze. "Kiss me," he challenged. "Then I'll wake up and all of this will disappear." Turning his head away, he closed his eyes. "It always does."

The very idea of kissing Lucius Malfoy was ludicrous. He was over half her age and an ex-death eater. On top of that, he wasn't in a good place mentally and it looked as if a lot of the hallucinations they'd fed him in prison were centered around her, which she found extremely random. Why her? Why not his deceased wife, Narcissa? Or Draco? But whatever the reason, he needed to understand that he wasn't stuck in Azkaban, and if that meant she had to kiss him, then she would.

Gently, she released one of his wrists so she could cup his chin. When he was facing her again, she bent down, stopping when she was about an inch away from his waiting lips. His eyes hadn't opened, but as if he could feel her closeness, he slowly raised his eyelids to stare up at her, an unreadable expression set on his pale face.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Mr. Malfoy," she warned before she did just that. The kiss was barely a peck, just a chaste meeting of the lips, really. His lips were dry from dehydration and he was shaking from either shock or exhaustion. Regardless, there was a small part of her that enjoyed the way he tilted his head to the side for better access; there was a part of her that enjoyed the way he moaned a little bit when she pulled away.

She knew he was reacting the way he was because he had been starved for touch - any man would be desperate for a little affection after so long, so she didn't dwell on it, but she did, however, store it away for later. "See? This isn't a hallucination."

Blinking, he ran his free hand up her leg. "I usually wake up at this point."

"You're not going to wake up this time because you're already awake." She extricated herself from him. "Now, I'm assuming you're hungry so I'll go get you some of the soup I made."

Halfway out the door, she heard him grit out, "Don't." Turning to look at him from over her shoulder, she waited for him to say something else but he kept his eyes lowered.

"Don't, what, Mr. Malfoy?"

His clenched jaw and fisted hands were visible to her from 10 feet away. He was obviously upset but she wasn't sure what else she could do for him, besides what she was already doing. For Godric's sake, she'd gone so far as to kiss the man to prove a point! Really, there were only so many things she could do to help - she couldn't heal him emotionally; she couldn't take away the painful memories. All she could do was give him food and a warm place to sleep.

"I don't want to be alone," he said at last.

"Then I'll stay," she replied easily. "Try to get some rest."

He only nodded when she went back to sit beside him on the bed. When he hesitantly moved his head to rest on her lap, she said nothing, just started combing her fingers through his hair. The silence was soothing rather than stifling, and when he finally fell asleep, the silence felt like a small victory.

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 **Author's note - Hi! I know this has been done before, but I really wanted to write my own story centered around this idea. I hope everyone enjoys it. There will be a few more chapters, but I'm not planning on it being terribly long. Anyways, let me know what you think! I adore feedback.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Before anyone reads the next installement, I want to warn you guys that this chapter gets a little dark (self-harm). I started writing, and this is what I got.**

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"You saved me, Ms. Granger. Why?"

Startled by the question, she glanced up from the book she'd been reading and shrugged her shoulders. "I was bored."

Smiling wearily, he tilted his head knowingly. "You're not a very good liar."

She hid her grin. He was more kind than she remembered him being. "Honestly, I wanted to save your family."

The little bit of amusement in his eyes faded, to be replaced with a hard coldness. "I don't have a family. My wife is dead and my son doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

It was true that his wife was dead, but Draco was a different story. Her old nemesis didn't hate his father, but he did hate the things Mr. Malfoy had done, and that made things... complicated. While Draco refused to see his father, Hermione knew that he would eventually change his mind. Especially, if his father was a free man, which he now was.

"Then I did it to save you," she replied. "You prevented Bellatrix from killing me that night. I thought it was right to return the favor."

He sniffed disdainfully, then sighed as if he couldn't keep playing the snobby aristocrat any longer. "I was a coward, Ms. Granger. I should have prevented her from torturing you in the first place."

The guilt in his voice made her heart ache. "There was nothing you could have done that wouldn't have ended in your death, or the death of your family," she said softly. "You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened, Mr. Malfoy."

"Would you do me a favor, Hermione?" he asked suddenly.

It was the first time he'd called her by her first name since last night, and it sent a warm feeling coursing through her entire body. "If I can," she informed him, smiling.

"Stop calling me 'Mr. Malfoy'. My name is Lucius." Seconds passed before he added, "Certainly it wouldn't be improper for you to do so? After all, you are of age."

Yes, she was, but in his presence she still felt like the know-it-all schoolgirl who used to love nothing more than books. He made her feel very young and inexperienced with the ways of the world. "I suppose I could," she conceded. "Though, only if you do the same."

"It would be my pleasure, Hermione." When he smirked like that, he reminded her of Draco.

Clearing her throat, she tucked her book under her arm and stood up from her chair. "It's lunchtime. If you're ever going to recover your strength, then we need to fatten you up a bit." She realized she was changing the subject, but the conversation was becoming a little too strange for her comfort.

"I'm sure I look quite grotesque," he bit out distastefully. "It's a wonder that you can even stand to look at me."

"You still look like the powerful pureblood you've always been," she commented without thinking.

He watched her long enough for her cheeks to turn a bright pink. "I would imagine you weren't very fond of the man I once was," he mused thoughtfully.

Fully aware of his steady gaze, she chose her next words very carefully. "I was too focused on disliking your son, to give it much thought." It was partially true.

A spark of laughter flared to life in his stormy grey eyes when he said, "My son would always complain about you when he came home from school. He didn't know what to make of you."

She'd spent years absolutely despising Malfoy. His taunting remarks had made a lasting impression on her 11-year-old self and it had taken a long time for her to get over it and move on. It was still something she didn't feel comfortable talking about with Lucius. "I'm going to go get your lunch," she murmured before making a beeline for the door. Not giving him a chance to respond, she closed the door behind her, relieved when there was a physical barrier between them.

 **Lucius' POV**

She'd changed since the last time he'd seen her. He couldn't put his finger on it but she was different. Steely eyes, squared shoulders. The girl had become a woman.

Mind racing, he tried to sift through his past memories of Before. He couldn't recall much Before Azkaban, which he could thank the Dementor's for. It was probably a blessing, but he hated that he couldn't remember _her_ like he wished to, because she'd been the only light in his life for such a long time. He could remember _that much_. The moment he first truly noticed her was still seared into his brain. It had been when they'd captured her and Bellatrix had forced her to the ground while she marked her with the word 'Mudblood'. He could still hear her screams - in his dreams, in the light of day. They haunted him at all hours, never giving him a moment's peace, and he welcomed it because he deserved to hear her pain.

"Hermione," he breathed.

Even her name was like the most addictive drug. Hermione. Love and peace and _home_. She was so strong. So brave. Much too good for the likes of him; much too good for the likes of anybody, really, which made his fascination with her even more despicable.

"You're a fool, Lucius," he hissed, cursing the voices in his head that readily agreed with the statement. Things were no longer as black and white as they used to be and it left him feeling unstable, unpredictable.

 _When indifference turns to hate and hate turns to love...that's when you know you're insane._

The Ache, he was far too familiar with, started in his chest and no matter how hard he tried to control it, it kept spreading. His breaths started coming out in panicked gasps and his fingers dug into the inside of his wrists. Shaking, he searched the room for something, _anything_ that would help him release the Ache, and that's when the letter opener on the writing desk caught his attention. The desk was close enough to the bed that all he would have to do is reach over to get it. So rolling over, he crawled the best he could to the edge of the bed and stretched his arm out, barely missing the sharp tool. Unable to give up, he put one unsteady leg on the carpeted floor and tried again, this time managing to wrap his fingers around the handle. Flopping heavily back on the bed, he pushed air into his lungs, then let it all out in one harsh exhale.

 _Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it._

 _DO IT!_

Like a man possessed, he placed the point directly in front of the inside of his arm, pressing it hard enough into his skin to draw blood. Sighing in relief, his eyes rolled back in his head as he drug it down the length of his arm. "Yes," he mumbled into the pillow he'd hid his face into. "Yes. Yes." The sob that flew out of his mouth sounded like a wounded animal, but he didn't care. The pain from his self-inflicted cut helped him to forget about the terrible Ache that never left him alone and that was all that mattered.

"Oh my go-" Hermione gasped. "Lucius!" He looked up just in time to catch the horrified expression on her young face. Feeling disgusted with himself, he snarled at her defensively when she wrenched the letter opener from his hand.

She sucked in a deep breath when she glanced down at the bloody mess that had become of his arm. "What?" he challenged angrily. "Amazed at how low I've sunk, Ms. Granger?" Laughing, he flung his bloody limb in her face. "I bet the world would love to be here right now, don't you think? I bet they'd love to see the traitor bleed."

Falling to her knees, Hermione wordlessly used her wand to stop the bleeding and heal the wound. "Lucius-" she started after a moment.

"Don't judge me," he growled, startling her into releasing his arm. "You have no idea what I've done or what I'm capable of." He was out of control and he knew it but there was no way he could stop now. "You're lucky that I'm too weak or I would carve Mudblood into your other arm!"

Her face lost all color and she said nothing for several long seconds. He was just about to apologize, because he knew he'd gone too far, when she slapped him across the face so hard, his head jerked to the side. "You're lucky I'm too _good_ or I would Avada your sorry ass," she murmured, getting up in his face.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Hermione, I didn't mean what I-"

"No," she whispered, her eyes as cold as ice. "You meant every word. You believe I'm tainted because of my blood. Well, guess what?" Towering over him, she stabbed the letter opener into the mattress beside his head. "You're wrong!"

The pain she was doing her best to conceal could be heard clearly in her trembling voice. He could hardly stand to look at her when she was glaring down at him the way she was, though he didn't break eye-contact. At least he wasn't a complete coward. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He'd lost himself somewhere down the line; he'd become someone else entirely and he didn't know if he could ever get back what he'd lost- his humanity.

"Me too," she said. Backing away, she hid her face behind her curtain of hair. He watched her leave the room and come back with a tray of what looked to be his lunch. Not saying a word, she placed it on the nightstand and then started checking the room for anything else he could use to hurt himself. After she'd searched the entire room, she turned to him with a haunted look in her eyes. "I wasn't judging you. I wanted to do everything I could to help you." Crossing her arms, she gave him a hard stare. "And now I'm wondering if I'm wasting my time or not."

"You are," he replied confidently. "I'm not worth it."

She nodded in agreement, then took a step towards him. "I'm starting to see that. I guess the question is, do you want to be worth my time?"

Such an easy question. "Yes."

"Then change, Lucius," she said, her voice hard. "You're not alone. Not anymore, but you will be if you ever speak to me like that again. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he rasped.

"Eat your soup," she commanded. "I'll be back for the tray later." With that, she was gone, leaving him alone to think about the way she'd teared up right before she'd left.


	3. Chapter 3

"You need to get back to bed," she said, her back to him.

The trek down the hallway had felt like miles rather than the 10 feet it actually was. He'd had to use the wall to support himself as he hobbled towards the kitchen, all the while sweating bullets. "I would like to apologize for my abominable behavior."

Back as straight as a rod, she turned to look at him from over her shoulder. Her eyes were puffy and tears were clinging to her impossibly long eyelashes. His heart clenched inside of his chest, twisting and stuttering uncomfortably. "I'm a fool," she murmured softly. "I thought I could put you back together again, but I was wrong."

He hadn't been released for very long but already he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. If she gave up on him, he was well and truly screwed. "Forgive me," he begged brokenly. "The Dementors mind games...they twisted things, Hermione. My head is a scrambled mess, and for that - I'm sorry. I assure you that I would never harm you."

"I would like to believe that," she replied warily.

"Then believe it. It's the truth."

Hesitating, she moved to face him. "What did the Dementors show you, Lucius? What sort of hallucinations did they concoct for you?"

Telling the truth had never come easy to him but, for her, he would try. "They created beautiful nightmares for my pleasure and despair," he said after a moment's pause. He couldn't seem to keep eye contact with her for longer than 3 seconds at a time.

She took a step forward. "But what did they show you?" she pressed.

He clutched at the door, adjusting his grip and hanging on for dear life. "You."

Eyes wide, Hermione stayed perfectly still. "Me."

"They can see inside of a person's soul; they can see what you crave, what you need to get through the day."

"And when they looked inside of your head, they saw..." Her voice faltered.

"You," he finished meekly.

"That doesn't make sense. Why would they see me?" Bewilderment had made a home in her whiskey-colored irises, making it even more difficult to get what he needed to say out.

"Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night," he admitted, his tone just a tad defiant. Malfoys weren't scared to go after what they wanted.

Malfoys weren't scared of anything.

He observed the way she wrapped her arms around herself as if she was trying to shield herself from what he was saying. "Do you feel sick to your stomach?" he asked viciously. The voices were telling him to lash out at her before she could reject him. What else could he do but obey? "Does it disgust you to know that someone like me has feelings for someone like you?"

Gasping, she gripped the edge of the table like it was her only life-line. "Well?" he roared. "How does it feel to know that such an evil man thought about you at night? Because I did. I thought about you in that hellish hole. I dreamt about what it would be like to have you in my life, in my bed. I watched a girl go through unbearable pain and come out all the stronger for it, and it fascinated me - it made me want her."

"You're confused," she said at last, the words sounding more like a desperate plea rather than a confident statement. "You don't mean what you're saying."

Barking out a laugh, he forced himself to stumble into the room, just barely managing not to fall to his knees in the process. "You believe that I haven't gotten passed believing in blood purity, but you can't believe that I might care for you. I guess I can't blame you for that."

"You don't know me," she flung at him. "You care for a ghost that the Dementors seared into your brain. The girl you _think_ you care for doesn't exist."

He immediately wanted to deny it. He knew how he felt. She'd been in his thoughts every day for the past year, longer actually - if his fuzzy memory served him right. But he could see that he was only making her more afraid of him. It hadn't been very long since he'd threatened her and she was so young and innocent. "Perhaps you're right," he conceded. "Though, you have no idea how much that possibility hurts me."

"Why should it?"

With his hands clasping the back of a kitchen chair in order to stay upright, Lucius glared at her with all the anger he could muster. "The memory of you kept me alive. Your courage helped me get through each day. I fought because I had seen you fight and I knew if you could do it, then so could I." His face softened as he watched her. "It's amazing to me that you got me out of there," he mused. "So to think that my feelings for you were fabricated by Dementors... makes me sick."

"I think," she took a deep breath, "that bringing you here was a mistake."

He closed his eyes. Those words hurt and they bruised but he couldn't blame her in any way. He was an old man that had done awful things and he was expressing inappropriate feelings for her as if he had the right. She was completely justified in her regret.

"I think I'm going to have a talk with Draco." With those words she started rearranging the knick-knacks on the windowsill. "I'm sure he will take you in. You are his father after all."

"If that's what you think is best," he replied, voice heavy. He wasn't brave enough to wait around for her answer so he started making his way back to the guest bedroom, too weary to do anything else but fall down onto the bed, exhausted.

 **Hermione's POV**

The Malfoy Mansion hadn't changed much since the last time she'd seen it. The only difference was all of the light that poured in through all the open windows. And the young man that now no longer looked haunted by evil wizards and dysfunctional families.

"You probably have a good idea about why I'm here," she started once Draco had sat down in one of the plush armchairs opposite her.

"I do read the news," he drawled, seemingly bored but she could see through the act.

"Well, then you know that your father is out of Azkaban and currently staying with me."

Arms holding tight to the armchairs, Draco worked his jaw. "I must say, I didn't think you'd be able to pull it off, Granger, but I should have known better than to underestimate you."

"He can't stay with me, Draco," she blurted out.

He chuckled humorlessly, re-situated himself, and smirked. "Have you finally realized what kind of man Lucius Malfoy is?"

"He fancies himself in love with me."

She thoroughly enjoyed the way his mouth fell open at her sudden announcement. The shock written all over his face would have been laughable if she wasn't so anxious to fix the problem. "He's in love with you?!"

"He thinks that he is," she corrected primly, doing everything in her power to stay calm. "You and I both know that he isn't. Azkaban toys with vulnerable minds and they did a number on your father. He's a mess, really, and I think it would be better for everyone if he came to stay with you. It would be a good start in repairing your relationship with him."

Sniffing, he turned up his nose at her. "I have no interest in repairing our relationship, Granger."

"That's a lie. You crave his approval. You always have."

It was a low blow but desperate times called for desperate measures. She couldn't go back to her flat and force herself to go anywhere near Lucius. He said things that confused her, made her think about things that left an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. "This isn't my responsibility," he replied harshly. Nostrils flaring, he jumped to his feet and started pacing the length of the room. "I was perfectly content to let him rot in prison, but you insisted on freeing him. If he has misguided feelings for you, then that's your problem, not mine."

"Draco, please," she whispered. "I can't do this."

Glaring daggers at her, he stared her down. "You should have thought about that before you forced the Ministry to let him go."

She could feel the anger bubbling up inside her and it poured out when she yelled, "I know, okay? I realize that I made a mistake. But I'm scared to go home, Draco! I have no idea what to do."

He sunk back into the chair and put his head in his hands. Several minutes passed in silence while both of them just sat there. Eventually, he raised his head and gazed at her, a resigned look in his eyes. "Alright," he murmured. "He can stay with me but once he's back on his feet, he's gone."

"If that's what you want," she said. Guilt mixed with relief, and Hermione accepted both emotions with grace.

"I'm assuming you want me to fetch him today?" Already she could see him working everything out in his head.

"If you could."

Nodding, he made his way to the desk in the corner of the study to rifle through some papers. "I'll have to make some preparations, but I'll have Dobby come for him in a few hours, okay?"

She got to her feet and closed the distance between them. "Thank you," she breathed. "I know this is hard."

"Yes, but you're right. He's my father and I can't run from him forever."

Hermione stood up on tiptoe to reach his cheek. "I'll be waiting." A couple of seconds later she floo'd back home.

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 **Thanks everyone for the comments, favorites, and follows. It helps me know that I'm doing a decent job with this story. :) You guys are all awesome!**


	4. Chapter 4

The boy he used to tuck in at night no longer seemed to exist in the emotionless eyes of the man before him. There used to be such constrained passion in his son's eyes, such yearning for love, but now- now Lucius was afraid life had snuffed it out of him. The young man standing several feet away was in fact his offspring, but Lucius felt like Draco would rather not admit their connection, even to himself.

Draco's cutting gaze sliced through Lucius, making him feel tired and more alone than he'd thought possible. Somehow it had been easier in Azkaban than it was in Hermione's cluttered living area. "You look unwell, father," Draco said hollowly.

"I imagine you're right," he replied, relieved that Draco hadn't waited for him to speak the first words.

Lucius watched as Draco strolled casually towards the bay window facing the front of the property. "I hear that you've been terrorizing poor Granger since your release. How does it feel, father?"

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he closed his eyes against the onslaught of Draco's hate. "How does what feel?"

"How does it feel to be unwanted, unloved?" Such hurtful words said so flippantly, turned Lucius' stomach inside out. No doubt he deserved them, but Godric it stung like nothing else.

"You might not want to hear this, Draco, but I am sorry," he rasped after he gathered what little bit of courage he had left.

Draco huffed out a humorless laugh, shaking his head as if Lucius was the stupidest being on earth. "Your apology means nothing to me. I don't want it. And I don't accept it."

Lucius got to his feet a bit unsteadily, but he managed all the same. Wanting to close the distance but knowing he couldn't, he stood there, dumbly. "I understand. I don't expect you to take me in after everything." He splayed his hands out apologetically. "Burdening you was never my intention."

For the first time since he arrived, Draco smirked. It was a vicious thing but it reminded Lucius of how things used to be. "And what of Hermione?" he questioned. "Did you intend to burden her with your disgusting feelings?"

Blanching, he swayed a bit to the side. Steadying himself, he took a fortifying breath, let it out, then repeated the process. Draco observed him closely, frowning as if he wasn't sure he understood what he was seeing. "You truly care for her," he murmured disbelievingly.

He clenched and unclenched his hands several times. "Does that surprise you?"

Eyebrows raised, Draco tilted his head to the side, his long platinum hair hiding part of his face. "A tad unconventional, don't you think? She's 20 years your senior. Not to mention, she's a war hero, and you're a filthy traitor. She would never care for someone like you," he added coldly.

"I'm fully aware of my chances with Miss Granger," he snarled, the pain from the truth almost too much to bear.

"Yes," Draco replied softly, something close to pity darkening his eyes, "I imagine you are."

"Draco-" he started.

"I think it's time for us to be going," his son cut in, all signs of compassion fleeing from his face. "We wouldn't want Granger to have to hide in her room forever, now would we?"

Lucius barely had a chance to glance behind him towards Hermione's closed door before Draco had grabbed his hand and Apparated them back to the Malfoy Mansion.

* * *

 **Seven days later**

"You've got to go see him, Granger," a harried Draco practically begged as he paced the length of her kitchen.

"What's the problem?" Hermione asked warily, half afraid of the answer she would receive.

"He's an absolute mess!" His long fingers ran through his hair, messing up his usually perfect mane. "He doesn't sleep and on the rare occasions that he does, he has nightmares. He screams for hours, Hermione." Turning to eye her apologetically, he winced as if his next words would pain them both. "He cries out your name. There's such pain in his voice when he begs for you."

"He needs time," she tried to reason, but Draco was already shaking his head.

"It's getting worse everyday." Grey eyes met brown and she knew she wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "I know that it's a lot to ask, but it would do him a world of good just to see your face," he said hesitantly.

"I sent him to you for a reason. His misplaced emotions for me are unhealthy and seeing me will only make it worse."

Turning halfway to face the opposite wall, he huffed exasperatedly. "That's the thing...I don't believe his feelings towards you are misplaced. I know my father and he cares for you. Deeply. This is more than a Dementor mind trick, Granger."

Trying to still the rising panic, she got to her feet and started scrubbing the counter tops with a ferocity that was hardly necessary.

"You saved him," Draco said coming up behind her to place his hands on her quaking shoulders. "You fought for his freedom and perhaps you didn't foresee this outcome," he inhaled sharply, "but you have the power to redeem him, Granger. I wouldn't ask this of you unless I thought there was another option. You know that."

"I can't save him, Draco," she replied, tired and weary. "I can't return his feelings, no matter how real they might be."

"I'm not asking you to," he beseeched. "All I ask is that you visit him from time to time. Perhaps it would help the madness that is eating him alive."

She knew she couldn't deny him when he so obviously needed her help but she didn't know how she was going to be able to face Lucius either. She'd spent the past week cursing herself for her cowardice, going over and over in her head all of the things that she should have done. After months of work just to free the man, she'd sent him away in a couple of days because she wasn't strong enough. Like a little schoolgirl, she'd gotten scared, and she was more than a little ashamed of her behavior; though, she was grateful Draco hadn't called her out on the sadness of her situation.

"Please, Hermione."

Placing her hand over his, she squeezed his fingers with hers. "Alright. I'll come over tomorrow for a couple of hours and sit with him."

She felt the hot release of his breath on her cheek when he exhaled. The relief radiating off him was almost tangible. "I appreciate this."

"This is all my fault, really," she admitted as she stepped away. "I should have left well enough alone."

Chuckling harshly, he moved to make his way towards the living room. "And when have you ever left well enough alone?"

When she didn't reply, he turned back towards her, his face softening when his eyes lit upon her watering eyes. "I haven't thanked you for helping him, have I? As much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad you got him out of there, Granger. No matter what he's done, he's still my father."

"Why do you think I did it?" she asked, not sure if she knew the answer to that particular question. At first, she'd told herself it was because of justice, but was that really true? Did Lucius really deserve the freedom the Ministry granted him?

"Why do you think you did it?" he challenged.

"I don't know anymore."

He grinned at her, his eyes sad. "Perhaps you should figure it out." He left then, the heaviness of his words weighing her down.

* * *

 **Love you guys!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione heard the pacing long before she stepped up to the large wooden door. Muttered words and harsh breathing escaped from under the crack of the door, sending nervous goosebumps up and down her arm. The man behind the door was someone she didn't feel safe around, and it had nothing to do with the possibility that he might physically harm her. No, it went far deeper than that.

Lucius Malfoy was like a rubber band- pull too hard and he would snap, and her biggest fear was that he would snap on her. The fact that he had feelings for her only made the tension in her shoulders increase to a painful degree. Knocking on the door almost felt impossible until she put her knuckles to the wood.

"Go away," Lucius yelled. There was a hint of anger in his voice but mainly he sounded desperate.

Deep breaths. "It's Hermione, Mr. Malfoy."

She heard him breathe out her name and in seconds the door was flung open and she was face to face with the man who was turning her life upside down. He looked healthier in some ways but his eyes were bloodshot and blonde stubble covered his face- as if he hadn't taken the time to groom himself in the past week that they'd been apart.

"You came," he managed to wobble out. "Draco said you would but I didn't believe him."

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she struggled to maintain eye contact. "He asked me to."

He sucked in a deep breath before quickly running his hands through his greasy hair and rumpled clothing. Licking his dry lips, he glanced at her before quickly lowering his gaze to the wooden floor. "I'm afraid I'm not quite prepared for company. Would you excuse me for a few minutes?"

"Of course." Relieved, she started to back up.

As fast as lightning he had his hand wrapped around her clasped one, efficiently stopping her in her tracks. "You won't leave, will you?"

Her heart almost melted at the pitiful sight. Eyes beseeching, jaw clenched, he made a pathetic figure but it only served to make her feel more compassion for him. "I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Malfoy," she found herself saying.

He closed his eyes, tightened his grip, and then slowly released her. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay. I'll be quick. I promise."

Nodding, she made her way towards the parlor. Flashes of the past played before her eyes at the sight of the familiar furnishings. No matter how many times she visited the mansion, she would never forget the look in Bellatrix's smile as she carved Mudblood into her skin; or the way Draco kept closing his eyes to shield himself from what was happening. She'd found hell itself that night and time would never erase those memories, but they had gotten easier to cope with as the months went by.

"Thank you for coming." Spinning on her heel, she found Draco standing in the entryway. Hands in his suit pockets, he smiled wanly in her direction. She'd been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard him coming.

"I don't know what I think I'm doing," she commented, shaking her head. "I must be losing my mind."

Eyeing her knowingly, he stepped into the room. "You've always been a sucker for a lost cause."

Hurried footsteps reached their ears, stopping Hermione from snapping out a reply. A much cleaner looking Lucius appeared in the doorway several seconds later. His eyes scanned the area frantically until they found her and he was by her side before she had a chance to blink.

"Would you care for some tea, Her-…" he cleared his throat nervously, "Ms. Granger?" It seemed like such a simple, unpretentious question but the look on his face suggested that that wasn't the case.

In an attempt to settle her nerves, Hermione pasted a smile on her face and nodded politely. "Yes, please."

"So proper today, Granger," Draco drawled as he moved to take a seat at the ornate table.

She flashed him a stern glare before sitting down opposite him. She'd barely made herself comfortable before Lucius was beside her, pouring hot tea into her cup. "What happened to your house elf, Draco?" she asked half out of curiosity, half out of the need to drive the silence away.

Draco shot a look towards Lucius before taking a sip of Earl Gray. "Father insisted we free it the day he arrived."

Her eyes automatically found Lucius' and what she saw in his gaze made her stomach twist in knots. He was watching her like she was the only person in the world he cared to look at. His knuckles were white from the way he was gripping the tea pot and his mouth was clamped shut. His entire demeanor suggested that he was extremely upset.

Completely unable to look away, she murmured, "I see."

"Yes. Love is a mysterious force, is it not?" Draco commented offhandedly.

Lucius broke eye-contact to send his son a warning look. "Draco."

"I'm only speaking the truth, Father." Turning to wink at her, he scooted back in his chair. "Unfortunately, I have business to attend to, so I'll say goodbye for now. Thank you again, Granger." With that he was gone, just as quietly as he had come.

"I apologize if he made you uncomfortable," Lucius said softly once it was just the two of them. "My son is not often very subtle."

Smiling despite herself, Hermione dropped a sugar cube into her cup. "Or very tactful," she replied wryly.

He grinned at her easy reply. She watched him hesitate next to her as if he was debating on whether or not to sit down beside her. To her surprise he moved to take Draco's chair, which she hadn't expected due to his obvious desire to want to be close to her.

Regardless of his reasoning, she was grateful for the bit of space. "How have you been, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"It's been…" he paused to fix his tea. "Well, rough," he admitted, obviously embarrassed.

"That's understandable," she replied kindly. "You've got to give yourself time to transition."

Fixing her with a look, he swallowed hard. A war was brewing in his icy eyes and she couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that head of his. She could no longer deny the fact that he fascinated her, and she couldn't pretend that she didn't care about his wellbeing. After all, she'd advocated for his release like a woman on a mission for over a year, knowing all the while that everyone around her thought her batty- their opinion hadn't mattered in the slightest.

"Do you think I'll ever achieve a sense of normalcy?" he asked.

Understanding the seriousness of the question, she strived to answer it as honestly as possible. "You've already come such a long way, Mr. Malfoy. I believe it will take time, but you _will_ get there," she responded with confidence.

Instead of replying, he took a gulp of his steaming drink and immediately started gasping when it slid down his throat. "Damn!" he yelled when he accidentally let the cup slip from his grip.

Jumping to her feet, she ran across the table to assess the situation. A dark stain ran all the way down his left thigh and she knew it had to burn like the dickens. "Let me help," she commanded when he shied away from her.

"You don't have to."

Hating the way his face was scrunched in pain, Hermione knelt on the floor, placed a hand on his waist, and grabbed her wand from inside of her coat. "Hold still." Pointing the end of her wand at his leg, she murmured a healing spell. The effect was instantaneous, much to her relief.

He looked down at her gratefully. "Thank you."

"We're not finished just yet." Standing up, she cupped her hand around his jaw. "Open up."

Body quivering, he did as she asked, all the while watching her like a man starving for affection. Once she'd whispered the spell to heal his scalding tongue and throat, she stood there, wondering why she couldn't move.

Seemingly happy by her closeness, he pushed into her hand further and closed his eyes. Her fingers felt his racing heartbeat, which forced her heart to beat in overtime as well. "You cannot possibly understand how much I have missed you," he groaned roughly.

Apparently, all of his previous self-control had disappeared. "You shouldn't," she replied.

He shook his head. "Asking me not to miss you is like asking me not to breathe, Hermione. I wish I could get rid of these feelings for your sake, if for nothing else, but I can't."

"It's wrong, Mr. Malfoy."

Opening his eyes, he stared up at her, his entire expression imploring. "I know that I am a worthless git. I deserve nothing from you, but I have to beg for your mercy. Please," he finished, voice cracking.

Without her permission, her hand found its way to his sleek blonde hair. Her body was reacting to him, making it impossible to form words.

Gasping at her touch, he wrapped both arms around her stomach. He dug his forehead into the soft part of her abdomen and squeezed her until she could hardly catch her breath. "I need you," he replied hoarsely.

"Mr. Malfoy…"

Her tone must have cut through his desperation because he stiffened and immediately let her go. To her surprise and dismay, he even went so far as to jump out of his chair to put more distance between them. "I'm so sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't force myself on you again."

He looked almost dead in that moment to her. She could hardly stand to look at him and it only got worse when he forced his gaze to hers, making it easier for her to see the panic in his stormy orbs. Not able to withstand the emotions coursing through her entire system, she allowed herself make her way to him. "I've been terrible," she spoke.

"What on earth do you mean?" he questioned.

Throwing her hands up in the air, she released an exasperated breath of air. "I've behaved like a stupid child. It's just that I've been so confused. I don't understand how you can have feelings for me and it's been difficult for me to process, but…" Hesitantly, she reached a hand out to him. She really needed to stop babbling and just get to the point. "I would be happy to visit you if you'd like."

A thousand years went by before he accepted her offered hand. Slowly he wrapped his fingers around hers and laughed in befuddlement when she didn't move away from him. "I would like that very much. No one has ever had such control over me," he informed her, his face alight with gentle adoration. "I don't believe I've ever felt so unsteady because of another human being before. It's like being on a Muggle roller-coaster, yes?"

She quirked an eyebrow involuntarily. "How do you know about roller-coasters?"

Ducking his head, he fidgeted with the edge his sleeve. "I've been researching everything Muggle. It helps when you're not around," he clarified when her only response was to give him a mystified look.

Sighing, Hermione tried very hard not to hate herself. She watched him for a bit before coming to a sudden, completely crazy, idea. "Let's go out," she said, the words flying out of her mouth before she could think better of it.

"Go where?"

"Out," she repeated impatiently. "You've been cooped up too long. It's time that you reacquainted yourself with the outside world."

It was easy to see he wasn't overly fond of the prospect of leaving the mansion, but she knew it would be good for him in the long run. He wouldn't be able to heal fully until he truly started living again. "You'll stay with me?" he asked hesitantly.

Seeing that he was at least thinking about the idea, she nodded enthusiastically. "Every step of the way," she promised.

"Well, I suppose I ought to give in," he finally agreed after a long pause. Grinning, he squeezed her palm. "After all, I know you well enough to know that you won't stop until you get what you want."

Normally, Hermione hated to be teased but the way he said it, like he truly enjoyed her bossy ways, softened her usually prickly demeanor. "It's good that you know who's in charge," she replied good-naturedly.

"Trust me, Ms. Granger, you have complete control over everything that goes on between us," he said seriously.

His words comforted her but the sweet look on his face did more for her than any words ever could. "Then let's get started. Let's show the world that the famous Lucius Malfoy has returned for good."

He pulled her closer. "Lead the way."

Closing her eyes, Hermione thought of the place she wanted to go, and then she let the pull of magic take them there.

* * *

 **I guess we'll see how well Lucius fares in the real world. And will Hermione stick with him this time? Thanks everyone for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

Honestly, he couldn't remember much of their outing other than the fact that he was still generally disliked among the masses. It mattered very little however, when he had such interesting company by his side. In some ways she was exactly like his imagination had conjured up...in other ways she was a complete enigma. The lines of her face were more familiar than his own, and at this point, he was already dreading the coming night because it meant she would leave.

"Well, that was certainly enlightening," Hermione mumbled. He observed her as she set her newly purchased books just a little too firmly on the dining room table.

"Is something wrong?" He knew her rough treatment of her books meant that she was upset.

Spinning around to gawk at him, she shook her head as if he was an alien. "Did you not feel everyone's censor burning a hole in the back of your head all day?" Huffing, she spun back around to march in the direction of the kitchen.

Having no idea what to do, he simply did want he desired to do, which was follow her. "Well, it is to be expected," he replied quietly, not intending to frustrate her further. "I am after all a traitor who has done despicable things."

"And you've suffered the consequences," she snapped back. "Who are they to keep punishing you when you've already paid your dues?"

"It hardly matters." He swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping that he hadn't just started something. "I don't care what others might think of me," he thought to add.

"Well I care." Her dark eyes connected with his, allowing him to see that she was bothered by what had happened during the course of the day. It was difficult not to find her anger endearing. It soothed him that she cared enough to try and protect him, and yet he would rather her be in a better state of mind. After all, she would be leaving soon and he would much rather spend the rest of their time in happy conversation.

"I mean I care about the injustice of it all," she clarified. Her gorgeous eyes seemed intent on looking everywhere but where he was standing.

Fascinated, he took a step in her general direction. It was as if a magnet was pulling him to her- a force beyond his control. He was experiencing a magic he had never felt before and nothing had ever felt so good. For once he actually felt alive. 46 years of memories vanished in a blink of an eye and all that existed was him and a war hero who made his heart thump harder than it ever had before. "You're very generous," he said quietly, too afraid to say more.

"Hardly," she scoffed.

"It's true." Without having realized it, he'd closed the distance between them, leaving only a few inches of space. Her warmth penetrated his suit and her breath caressed the sensitive parts of his neck. He couldn't stop his shaking hand from moving to cup her smooth cheek. "Hermione," he begged in a ragged whisper.

Something in her expression changes and it feels like he was being given permission.

He takes that last step.

 _One second._

He can feel her racing heart.

 _Two seconds._

She shudders when his chest touches hers.

 _Three seconds._

The moment his lips touch hers, the world that once was hanging on its axis explodes into a million bright pieces, blinding him with its intensity. The way their mouths meld together is almost too perfect and the tears that he's been holding in for years are finally allowed to fall down his haggard face. And for once it's not enough. He's used to feeling unsatisfied; that was the way he's lived his life- unsatisfied, but not this time. So he doesn't apologize when his palms move from her face to cup her small shoulders. He can't take the time to move his mouth from hers to **apologize** for how thirsty he is for her. It has to show in the way he tilts her head too press against her more firmly. Or maybe in the way he pushes her into the wall. Either way...he's too far gone and she's not saying anything to stop him.

Need makes his movements jerky and unskilled in a way that is unlike him. It envelops him. Cripples him.

 _I love you,_ his soul whispers to hers.

In response, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and jumps to wrap her legs around his waist. It pushes him back a few steps but he's able to recover enough to keep them both upright.

"What am I doing?" she panted when he releases her to start pressing rough kisses down the column of her throat.

Pausing to look at her, he sees a mixture of desire and uncertainty etched in the crevices of her beautiful face. Stopping is the last thing he wants but the knowledge that she isn't quite ready slows him down. The steady throbbing in his pants is crying out for attention and yet the urge to be selfish evaporates in the air. Without hesitating he puts her back on the ground and gently pushes her crazy mane from her face.

He half expects her to move away from him, shut him out on instinct if nothing else, so he finds it shocking when she doesn't automatically put distance between them. "I have no clue what's happening," she stated after a few moments.

Fear is a terrible thing. It's a monster that very few have conquered...Lucius certainly hadn't.

"You make me curious," she continued. "It makes me do things, think things. I tried to stay away and I couldn't. Now I can't think of anything but how soft your lips are and how I want to taste them again." Shy eyes connect with his, searching.

"That can be easily remedied, you know," he jested softly.

"Can it?"

Giving her time to reject him, he lowers his his head to once again connect his mouth to hers and it's just as overwhelming as their last kiss. With being preoccupied he doesn't hear the front door open or close, or the sound of shoes making contact with the wooden floors. He does, however, hear his son's sharp intact of breath.

"Well, well, well," Draco said on an exhale. "This is certainly unexpected."


End file.
